Inspiration
by DisorderlyandPunk
Summary: She shivered involuntarily, her hands coming to press against his hard chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that had never been there before.


**Title: Inspiration**

**Summary: She shivered involuntarily, her hands coming to press against his hard chest. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that had never been there before. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately**

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She wanted to scream. Writer's block was a frustrating thing and being in the library while it attacked was even more so frustrating. She ripped her parchment to shreds throwing it forcefully in every direction she could. She would most definitely need to pick that up before Madame Pince came to shoo her out of the library. Head Girl or not Madame Pince would more than surely hang her for littering her precious haven She wanted to rip her hair out at the moment however. Her literary genius was drained and her tired mind wept for rest but she wouldn't give up. No, she refused to give up on the short story she had begun writing for she, Lily Evans, was not a quitter. With her head slipping from its prop on her hands, her head fell onto the wooden table with a rather loud bang yet she didn't feel anything.

"Shouldn't something like that hurt?" A heavy voice questioned.

Blowing her fiery red hair out of her eyes, Lily looked up without moving her head, "Oh it's _you_."

The you she had referred to with great displeasure was her fellow head student James Potter who was leaning against a shelf, languidly chewing on his apple. He had opted to discard of his school robes, "Madame Pince will skin you alive if she catches you eating in here."

"She'll quicker skin _you_ alive for dirtying the library," He grinned triumphantly pulling up a chair opposite her, "So why are you in here littering and trying to kill yourself?"

"That is none of your business," She answered flippantly, finally lifting her head from the table and rubbing her forehead with a frown.

"I can kiss that better if you'd like," James grinned cheekily at her.

With her eyes narrowed, Lily lifted her quill threateningly, "I will stab you with this."

Holding his hands up in surrender, James laughed, "I only came to see what you were doing, so if you would please spare my life that would be greatly appreciated. But really Lily what _are_ you doing?"

"If you _must_ know I'm trying to write a short story, but it's proving to be much more difficult than I thought it would be," Lily frowned heavily.

"Give it here," He said extending his empty hand.

"Why should I trust you to not laugh at it?" She held the parchment to her chest protectively, "Besides it's a romantic piece and you have no experience in that area. If I were to write a dirty novel then perhaps I would ask your advice."

"Well to be fair you don't have any experience in that area either Evans and that doesn't stop you from writing this short story," James began taking another bite out of his apple, "And I'd love to help you be dirty with or without a novel."

Lily was shocked, proven by her jaw dropping open, by his dirty remark that sounded so nonchalant, "Go away Potter."

Working with him for almost six months still wasn't sufficient time for her to get used to James' random dirty remarks. Though she no longer blushed profusely at them and that could have been considered progress. Right now however, his deep rumble of a laugh caught her off guard. She arched an eyebrow wondering what exactly he found to be so amusing.

"Why are you still here?" She demanded, her eyes narrowed.

"Well my love now that that short story of yours has caught my attention, I have no intention on leaving before I read it. So either you let me read it of your own free will or I'll sit here staring at you until you let me read it. Two very simple choices don't you think?" He smiled smugly.

"If you make fun of it I swear to Merlin Potter I will kick your arse myself," Lily threatened quite seriously.

Grinning lasciviously, James reached across the table carefully and took the pieces of parchment away from Lily who was reluctant to let go. Adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses, James sunk deeper into his chair. Lily watched him like a hawk, noticing when he slipped up from silent reading and mouthed a few words here and there. She was impatient to hear what he thought. He occasionally looked up at her, with those eyes of his that she thought could see through to a person's soul, before continuing his reading. Page after page he read until he finished with all seven of them. He dropped them onto the desk not saying anything, merely staring at her.

"Well?" She prompted, breaking the silence.

"It's lacking…_passion_ Lily," He replied running a hand through his hair, as he did so often.

"Passion? What are you talking about? There's passion in there. It's not _your_ over the top _I must have you_ _now_ passion, but it's there," Lily glared, snatching back her pieces of parchment quickly.

"Your male love interest is boring," He shrugged, "The bloke is a pushover. You never struck me as the type who would like pushovers Lily."

"I will have you know _James_ that my protagonist is modeled after Edward Ferrars," She nodded in a matter-of-factly manner.

"He should have been modeled after Willoughby," James countered.

"Why? Willoughby was an arsehole."

"Willoughby was passionate," James argued standing up abruptly.

"Look Potter, when you write your own short story you can model whomever you want after Willoughby. I'm sticking with Edward." Lily stood as well. She wasn't going to lose her footing in this argument. It was a preposterous argument, ridiculous even, but she wasn't going to lose. Losing was never an option.

"Lily a male love interest is supposed to be someone that makes the female protagonist…in a few words hot and bothered."

Throwing her head back Lily let out a rather loud _HA!_ "I'm supposed to take literary advice from a man who uses the term _hot and bothered_? No thank you. Why don't you stick to what you know and go find one of your girlfriends," Lily said bitingly.

Smiling like a cat who had cornered its prey, James took a step towards Lily and she instinctively took a step back, "Why Lily I had no idea you were jealous."

"Jealous?" She laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. What do I have to be jealous of? Girls acting like idiots around you?"

Stepping forward once again, James grinned widely when Lily's back connected with a book shelf, cornering her. He had her exactly where he wanted her. For six months now the redhead in front of him, confused him to no end. His usual advances had no effect on her. She didn't respond to his dirty remarks, not in the way he wanted her to at least, his chivalrous deeds went unnoticed and his slip ups were always magnified for everyone to see when she was around. She was unaffected by him and he wanted her. _Badly_. He wanted this girl who could play the responsible role of Head Girl and in the blink of eye be the girl who challenged the Ravenclaw quidditch captain to a fist fight because he cheated.

"What are you doing Potter?" She questioned as he advanced on her.

Her heart was beating faster as James closed in on her. There was no denying that he was good looking. Lily was almost certain that he was the star of every girl's wet dreams, or at least the ones who were old enough to have them. He was tall, disheveled, perfectly tanned and always wore a lopsided grin that girls found irresistible. If Lily allowed herself to notice any of that she supposed right about now she would be putty in his hands, especially when he was smiling down at her so handsomely, the edges of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. He brought his arm to press against the wood next to her head and she could smell him. He was intoxicating. His smell was a perfect mix of natural musk, sandalwood and parchment.

"I think I should take it upon myself to teach you the meaning of passion Lily. Maybe it'll give you a little_ inspiration_," He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

She shivered involuntarily, her hands coming to press against his hard chest. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that had never been there before. She refused to look into his eyes. If she did, she knew she would do something that she would regret later. So with her eyes shut tightly, she whispered harshly, "You should go … _now_."

"No," He whispered back, bringing his free hand to caress her cheek lightly.

If this was his one opportunity to be this close to the Head Girl then he was going to savor it. He smiled slightly at the contrast between their skin. He was tanned, from all the training he did in the sun and she - she was milky white and freckled. She was flawless like a porcelain doll. His fingers traced the freckles that scattered across her pale lips - lips he had thought about kissing more than a few times.

"Open your eyes."

It was a command, not a request. The tone of his voice made her chest tighten and she slowly opened her eyes. With that one action the library seemed to get warmer. She felt flustered and trapped by her school robes. The smoldering look he was giving her didn't help her any. She felt trapped, yet she didn't want to run away. Her grasp on his oxford shirt tightened as he traced the bridge of her nose down to her lips and though she was enjoying his touches she couldn't understand how something so simple as him tracing her lips with his thumb made her feel so many different things.

"Stop over thinking."

He fingered her Gryffindor tie, before wrapping it around his fingers and using it to pull her to him. She was chest to chest with him and she was sure that no air could pass between them, they were so close. One hand played with her hair and the other rested on her lower back and she hated that she was eagerly awaiting his next move. The silence was almost unbearable and their heavy breathing didn't help any.

"Merlin you're beautiful."

With that she felt her resolve break. She had been holding herself back. She wasn't used to this kind of behavior. She was Lily Evans, Head Girl, model student. She didn't have _trysts_ in hidden sections of the library. But she couldn't resist him and she suddenly understood why all the girls liked him. Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him with everything she had. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer.

"What in Merlin's good name is going on back here!" A shrill voice shrieked causing the Head Boy and Head Girl to jump apart. Madame Pince stood but five feet away from them, glaring heavily, "Out, Mr. Potter, get out!"

"Yes ma'am," He grinned widely as he turned on his heels and walked away from the back of the library, his half eaten apple laying forgotten on Lily's table. Running a hand through her hair, Lily smiled faintly at Madame Pince before settling back in front of her table. She was sure the librarian wasn't going to leave her alone in the library from then on, not that she blamed her. With her eyes narrowed angrily, Madam Pince walked away from Lily who waited until she was out of eyesight before grinning widely.

Twenty minutes ago Lily had been in desperate need of a cure for her writer's block, but now - now she had inspiration.


End file.
